Bought And Paid For
by Teris Xenite
Summary: In this Through A Mirror Darkly AU Desperate circumstances bring McCoy into Kirk's care far earlier than in the Through A Mirror Darkly Universe.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I do not own Star Trek. I own nothing interesting. All I've got is my bones, must be why I like McCoy so much.

AN: This is the first chapter of the McCoy as a prostitute fic I promised this summer. Consider this an AU of Through A Mirror Darkly, where cruel circumstances bring McCoy into Kirk's care far sooner than in Through A Mirror Darkly.

Bought and Paid For

Teris Xenite

The blinking red light reflected off the rain. It did little to comfort McCoy as he stood waiting for someone, anyone really to decide that they were desperate enough to get their rocks off that they'd come out in the middle of a winter rainstorm looking for company. He hunkered down as far as he could so as to keep the majority of his body dry, as he waited under the scant awning that had seen better days if the cold drops of rain running down his back were anything to go by.

He felt ridiculous standing here dressed in a dark shirt that had been skin tight before the rain had plastered the fabric to his chest, and a pair of dark jeans slung low on his slim hips. He had to give Starfleet credit, their fitness requirements had left him with a sculpted chest and washboard abs, not that he'd ever anticipated using those assets in a professional capacity. Then that had been before the events of past weeks had left him with little other choice.

He wasn't quite sure what had turned the seemingly sweet girl that he'd married into a hell borne harpy, but the change had been complete and irreversible with her last actions. It hadn't been enough to take his money, his house, and his child from him. No, she hadn't stopped at his pride, his dignity, or his possessions. She'd taken his livelihood, all the while continuing to demand that he pay the exorbitant court appointed child support payments.

He had never expected her to go after his medical license, but she certainly had. Had convinced the judge that he'd killed his father, with the help of his traitorous sister. Never mind that his father had deserved the end that he'd received, never mind that all that they had for proof was the word of two women years after the fact. The state of Georgia had revoked his medical license, and Jocelyn's family had seen to it that getting licensure in another state was altogether an impossibility.

Without his medical credentials, he was worthless to Starfleet, and he'd been summarily been tossed out into the streets with his discharge papers and no where left to go. Despite receiving a fair stipend from Starfleet as a cadet, he'd never been able to save much of anything, as after his child support payments were made the rest of his income went to the most basic of living expenses. He'd left Starfleet with little more than he'd arrived with, and nothing of any real value to sell.

A few weeks out of the academy, and he'd only managed to find subsistence level employment. The heavy manual labor was the best that he could expect with nothing to prove or certify his hard won skills. And there was no way that he was going to be able to pay off Jocelyn, not when every cent he made went to cover the roof over his head in the cheapest dive he could find and meals that at some point might have resembled food.

As the end of the month grew closer, he felt a growing sense of dread. He had no doubt that Jocelyn would take great pleasure in sending debt collectors after him, and he had no interest in ending up on a slavers ship, or shot down in the streets like a dog. This left him with a sickening choice, he'd treated enough of the prostitutes who worked this area of town in the emergency room when he'd been a volunteer. It was dangerous, humiliating, and quite possibly the most terrifying thing that he'd ever done. It was also his only choice.

So here he stood, in the rain, waiting for some horny bastard to come looking to get his rocks off. If he didn't end up dead in the bay, this would keep the wolves from his door, for a little while at least. Of course that was a very big if. Then he reasoned, better dead and in the bay than sold off world to the slavers who favored human captives as exotic game. At least his 'clients' here were likely to be human, and he could turn down anyone that was too violent.

He did his best not to shudder as a car pulled up in front of him. It took everything he had not to turn tail and run when the door opened. Then as arctic blue eyes met his he felt his jaw drop. It took him a moment to regain his voice, and he was grateful to every power that he could name that it didn't shake when he spoke. "Come to gloat, Kirk? Because really, not the world's best time."

"Yes, I'd imagine that you've important business to conduct with the whole taking up whoring and all." Jim noticed McCoy's wince, and felt a stab of pity the he did not let show on his face as he watched the man shivering in the rain. "I'm not here to gloat doctor, I'm just here looking for some pleasurable company."

"Didn't you get the memo kid, I'm not a doctor anymore." McCoy felt his throat tighten at the bitter reminder that all that he once was had been violently stripped away.

Kirk scoffed at the notion. "Bullshit, they took a piece of paper from you, not that scarily brilliant brain of yours. But serves me well enough, though I think our business would be better conducted somewhere a little bit less likely to drown us."

"What business is that?" McCoy raised an eyebrow. Kirk had never wanted for company be it male, female, foreign or domestic. So what on earth was he doing seeking out a bed partner this far away from the academy, and offering to pay for it to boot?

"Told you, Bones, I'm looking for some company tonight. $200 an hour from now till morning."

McCoy resisted the urge to gape again. Here Kirk was offering him double the going rate for a lay, for what would be at least eight hours, at a conservative estimate.

"Trust me, McCoy. I'm the best offer you're going to get tonight. It's pouring, cold, and on top of both of those I intend to go plant myself across the street and scare off any other potential clients that might brave the weather for a piece of that very fine ass of yours. So get in the car now or after you've stood here all night in the cold, choice is yours."

At the mention of the temperature McCoy felt a cold breeze that caused him to shiver, as it tore through his soaked shirt. He sighed, and stepped into the car with what felt like the weight of the damned on his shoulders. Kirk smiled and aimed the heat vents at McCoy's shaking form. "I knew you'd see it my way eventually." As Kirk smiled at him, McCoy felt an icy fear begin to build in the pit of his stomach. What had he just done?

AN: There you have it, the beginning of a truly 'educational' experience for our favorite doctor. I hope you enjoyed it, I'll be updating both this and Through A Mirror Darkly for the next little bit. I'll try my best to have the next chapters up soon. In the mean time thank you for reading, and please do let me know what you think.


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: I do not own Star Trek. I own nothing interesting. All I've got is my bones, must be why I like McCoy so much.

AN: AU of Through A Mirror Darkly, where cruel circumstances bring McCoy into Kirk's care far sooner than in Through A Mirror Darkly.

Bought and Paid For

Teris Xenite

McCoy tried to swallow his nervousness as Kirk drove them into a part of town that he was unfamiliar with. They were leaving the seedy part of town that McCoy had taken up residence in behind at a steady clip, and definitely weren't heading towards Starfleet and the surrounding area. Instead they were entering the affluent section of San Francisco. Kirk pulled up to one of the older, more venerable hotels, and exiting the car handed his keys to the waiting valet.

McCoy hoped that his bewilderment wasn't readily apparent on his face, but he was beyond confused. Since when did a man of Kirk's stature bring a whore to a place like this? Or hire someone to keep him company in the first place, when normally a flash of that devil may care but I sure as hell don't smile, and the impossibly blue eyes were enough to send folks fawning over him. He stood a discrete distance from Kirk while he conversed with the concierge, who had a bit of a sneer as he looked at McCoy as if he were a particularly loathsome insect as he stood dripping on the marble floors.

A moment's conversation with Kirk and a stroke of a pen later and the man was falling all over himself to accommodate Kirk who pocketed the keys and turned to McCoy with a smile. "Come on, we need to get you out of those wet clothes before you catch your death." McCoy tried not to shudder at the implication of Kirk getting him out of his clothes, but involuntarily arched into the warmth that emanated from Kirk's hand where it settled on his lower back.

It seemed like Kirk knew where he was going, so it was much easier for McCoy to allow himself to be led in the proper direction than it was for him to consciously process where he was going. He found himself steered into a gilded and marble elevator, and the doors had just closed when Kirk backed him into the wall. He brought one hand up to tangle in the still dripping ends of McCoy's hair, subtly holding him in place as Kirk attacked his mouth. The kiss wasn't so much violent as it was longing, and McCoy had half a second to wonder how much seriousness there had been in the glances Kirk had been sending his way when they had been roommates.

And then there was precious little time to think, as Kirk's mouth became insistent as it explored him. Against all good sense and reason he felt himself begin to harden and felt his face flame as the poorly concealed bulge brushed against Kirk's thigh. Warm fingers reached down to circle the area, causing McCoy to gasp into the kiss. Kirk pulled away from his mouth, and trailing kisses along his jaw smiled as he felt McCoy shudder at the stimulation. "Glad to see you're enjoying this so much, if I'd known you were this responsive, I'd have found some way to do this much sooner."

Any answer that McCoy had meant to make died as a hiss in his throat as Kirk's mouth descended on his neck, with special attention being paid to that spot between his shoulder and his neck that always had turned him on. "Oh McCoy, if you only knew what I have planned for you. I booked the room for the weekend, we can talk terms later. For the moment, just let me have you." His response to the removal of Kirk's talented mouth was a needy whimper that he hadn't even known he could make, and he shifted his hips upwards seeking either the continuation of Kirk's teasing touch, or the friction that bumping against Kirk's thigh would give him.

"I'm going to take that as a yes then?" McCoy nodded, and saw Kirk's smile widen as he reached over and slapped the emergency stop button the elevator. His eyes widened as Kirk's deft fingers came to the button of his jeans. Surely Kirk didn't mean to fuck him here, in the elevator with the security cams and god knows who watching. That seemed to be what he had in mind though, as McCoy found himself exposed to the air and the hungry gaze of James T Kirk.

Kirk's eyes heated as he took in the picture McCoy made, still dripping wet from the rain, panting and flushed from Kirk's attentions, and leaning heavily against the wall. The shirt that still clung to McCoy plainly revealed his flat stomach, and his cock was a thing of beauty in and of itself. It jutted heavy and dripping from McCoy's jeans, and never in his life had Kirk so envied a pair of Levis. Altogether the man looked good enough to eat.

Ever since he'd met McCoy he'd imagined what the man would look like in a situation like this. Ever since they'd shared a flask of bourbon he'd wanted to know what McCoy tasted like. Ever since they had started sharing living quarters he'd wanted to see the man stretched out beneath him, body tensed and those well defined muscles glittering with sweat. Ever since McCoy had taken to bitching at him for the stupid risks he took Kirk had wanted to hear that gruff but smooth voice gasping his name as he came. And now more than ever he wanted to see the uptight but delectable doctor come apart under his hands and mouth.

And to think that such a wonderful prize had almost slipped through his grasp due to some backwoods bleached blonde tramp from bumfuck. Oh no, he didn't think so. After he finished with McCoy, he and Jocelyn would be having a very long, very meaningful discussion. And if she persisted in this vendetta against McCoy, well then child or not, she would have to be disposed of. Fortunately for Jocelyn, McCoy's hips bucked and his hardened length brushed against Kirk drawing his attention back to more important matters than taking out the trash.

Kirk smiled and placed a soft kiss on McCoy's jaw. "Consider this a taste of things to come, McCoy." Kirk then fluidly sank to his knees, and engulfed McCoy's aching cock in the hot recesses of his mouth. Kirk's eyes never left McCoy's face, and he was immensely satisfied with the half lidded eyes, the slightly parted lips, and the blush that spread from McCoy's cheeks to his neck. Seeing that McCoy was close, he began flicking his tongue on the underside of the head of McCoy's cock on every upstroke, and to hum as he went down.

Between the two sensations McCoy was gasping in short order, and Kirk smiled at the white knuckle grasp that McCoy had on the hand rail behind him. Within a few moments Kirk felt the tensing of McCoy's body beneath him, and heard the strangled moan which may or may not have been an attempt at his name. Then his mouth was filled with the briny taste of McCoy's release. Kirk pulled back to sit on his heels, and never removing his eyes from McCoy's swallowed.

Kirk rose from his knees with a greater grace than any mortal man should be allowed, and brought his lips to McCoy's for a short kiss before pulling back just enough to let McCoy breathe, all the while leaving their foreheads touching. A distracted slap of his hand on the control panel, and the elevator started moving again. Kirk pulled away, and gently slid McCoy's spent cock back into his jeans. He buttoned them and gave the area a final fond pat before pulling away, and looking the epitome of decorum as the doors opened.

Kirk stepped out of the elevator, and looked back over his shoulder at a still trembling McCoy. "You coming, McCoy? The night's young yet." McCoy watched the man's fading back, and after a moment started after him with still shaking knees, wondering what Kirk had in mind for the next act of this farce of seduction.

AN: Bet ya'll weren't expecting that. Truthfully neither was I, but it is what Kirk insisted that he wanted to do to McCoy, and hey who am I to argue with James T. Kirk? Especially when the results are so lovely. I hope all of y'all continue to enjoy this story, and let me know what you think.

Next up: Sex, a Jacuzzi, and some of that lovely care taking captain we've all grown so fond of.


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: I do not own Star Trek. I own nothing interesting. All I've got is my bones, must be why I like McCoy so much.

AN: AU of Through A Mirror Darkly, where cruel circumstances bring McCoy into Kirk's care far sooner than in Through A Mirror Darkly.

Bought and Paid For

Teris Xenite

Kirk waved the key card in front of the door sensor and opened the door to their home away from home for the weekend. McCoy hoped that Kirk wasn't watching him too closely, because his mouth dropped as he took in the space. The floors were polished hardwood that gleamed in the tastefully appointed light. Antique rugs expertly preserved cushioned the floor beneath his feet, and the windows provided a clear view of the San Francisco Bay. Fresh cut flowers were arranged around the room, and there was a large fireplace across from what had to be the biggest bed that McCoy had ever seen.

He gulped at the thought of what was to come, and reminded himself that he could in fact do this. Didn't have a choice really, so might as well stop wallowing about it. It did him little good to dwell on the fact that what Kirk had paid for this room for the night likely would have kept McCoy in comfort for a month. It didn't do to dwell on the fact that he'd done nothing to deserve the fall from grace that he'd suffered, or the fact that the world he lived in rewarded those who took and destroyed and punished those who created and gave. Such thoughts really were dangerous, and should be avoided if he wanted to live to see thirty-five.

The world had never been a fair place, and only children and fools expected it to be. He had to admit that the evening was going far better than he'd had any reason to expect up unto this point. And if he had to do this, there were worse people to end up doing it with. Kirk might have been known for the ruthless way that he dispatched enemies, but he was also famous for his godlike skills in bed. And McCoy had to admit, that he wasn't exactly hard on the eyes.

As if sensing McCoy's thoughts Kirk turned towards him and smiled. "Come on, you must be freezing. Let's see if we can't get you out of those wet clothes and get you warmed up, huh?" Kirk held out a hand to him and looked at him expectantly with a raised eyebrow. After a second's pause, and a firm reminder to his nerves to shut the fuck up thank you very much, McCoy took the offered hand. Kirk smiled and led McCoy to a bathroom as richly appointed as the bedroom had been. Kirk let go of McCoy's hand and with a deft flick of the wrist began filling the large jacuzzi tub with water.

He turned back to McCoy and the smile on his face and the warmth in his eyes took McCoy by surprise. He hadn't expected to be treated to gentle hands this night, or soft glances, and now that he was he wasn't quite sure how to proceed. Kirk stepped into his space, and McCoy resisted the urge to lean into the warmth that radiated from Kirk. Kirk slid calloused hands under McCoy's tight shirt, and inched the wet fabric up and over McCoy's head before dropping it to the marble floor with a wet plop.

McCoy toed off his shoes and kicked them across the room, and almost jumped at the feel of the cool stone beneath his bare feet. He'd forgone socks in an attempt to make undressing for the evening easier, and was glad of it now, as the idea of hopping awkwardly on one foot in front of Kirk was one that he did not want to contemplate. Fingers that had already proven their skill to him once this evening undid the button and zipper of his jeans, and in what seemed like an instant he stood completely bare to Kirk's gaze.

Kirk smiled, and pressed a soft and almost affectionate kiss to McCoy's lips before giving him a gentle shove towards the now steaming water. "Very, very nice. Now in you go." McCoy stepped into the water and could not help a contented sigh as he was surrounded by the comforting feeling of wet warmth that seemed to invade every pore and burn away the persistent chill brought about by the damp San Francisco air. He crossed to the far side of the tub, and turned still facing Kirk as he sat.

The water came up to his shoulders but it was more than just the heat of the water that made his cheeks flush. Once he was settled in the bath, Kirk met and held his eyes, and slowly began discarding his own clothes. He envied the man his confident grin, and the ease with which he disrobed. Not, mind you, that the poster boy of the fleet had anything to be ashamed of in the looks department. As his shirt was removed, McCoy was treated to the sight of chiseled abs and strong broad shoulders. Faint scars stood as testament to the fact that Kirk had not reached the level of success he currently enjoyed without bloodshed.

His chest tapered into a trim waist, above slim hips, with a thin trail of sandy blond hair breaking the smoothness of the sculpted stomach, and leading McCoy's eyes to the waistband of Kirk's pants. With a satisfied smile and quick hands Kirk divested himself of his pants and shoes as well, before joining McCoy in the steaming bath. The tub was easily large enough to accommodate them and several friends should they so desire, but Kirk took advantage of the confined space to settle in next to McCoy.

Kirk was pleased with the response his impromptu strip tease had created, as while McCoy wasn't actively pursuing him he hadn't turned away from the sight either. The blush on McCoy's cheeks was endearing, and Kirk realized that aside from the fact that he'd been married, he knew little enough about McCoy's sexual history. The way that he'd chosen to support himself after his fall from grace was enough of an indication that he at least found the company of another man preferable to death, but the vibes that McCoy was sending off screamed neophyte.

Not that Kirk minded the doctor's inexperience in the least. He was in fact dearly looking forward to teaching him anything that he might need to learn, and refreshing any skills that may have lapsed due to underuse. He considered briefly the idea that McCoy might in fact be a virgin, so extreme was his lack of confidence in this area, but then dismissed the idea as preposterous. Inexperienced perhaps, but no one made it through a full education in the Empire, much less several years at Starfleet without some sort of experience. Especially not someone as attractive as the good doctor was.

Kirk decided that it was better for him not to get his hopes up, he'd soon learn about the extent of McCoy's experience. And if he should happen to be an innocent despite all the reasons against expecting it, well Kirk had always been a lucky son of a bitch. For the moment, Kirk frowned as he took in the slim frame before him. His clothing had concealed just how thin McCoy had gotten since he'd left Starfleet. It wasn't to the point of emaciated, and Kirk had seen plenty of people far worse off, but he still made a mental note to see to it that McCoy got several good meals in his system before their stay here was over.

Kirk noticed that McCoy had begun to look increasingly uncomfortable, and figured that the silent contemplation he'd been engaging in had unnerved the doctor. He reached over and gave McCoy's shoulder a squeeze, cursing to himself as the man tensed beneath his touch. "Hey now, take it easy. If I intended to hurt you, I'd have done it back in the ally, not brought you some place with thousand thread count sheets and a hot tub. I intend to make this good for you too, all you have to do is let me."

Kirk traced soothing circles on McCoy's back, and pulled him in for a gentle kiss, pleased when McCoy didn't resist. While his mouth was occupied, Kirk's hand darted out and grabbed a sponge and pulling away from McCoy gestured for him to tilt his head back. He wet down McCoy's hair, and depositing the sponge back on the side of the tub spread his hands with some of the luxurious shampoo that the hotel had provided. His fingers rubbed the suds into McCoy's scalp, and after a few minutes he felt the man begin to relax as his fingers massaged the sensitive skin. When he had McCoy unknowingly arching into the touch he rinsed his hands, and then retrieved the sponge to rinse McCoy's hair.

Having finished with his hair, Kirk left the sponge floating in the water, and coating his hands with body wash began paying attention to McCoy's neck, shoulders and chest. These actions served multiple purposes, first it set McCoy more at ease with him and accustomed him to Kirk's touch, second it allowed Kirk to manipulate a body that he'd admired from a far for many years, and lastly it allowed him to insure that McCoy was properly cleansed before he took him into his bed. Not, of course, that he doubted the doctor's hygiene practices, but he'd not been living in the best of conditions as of late and Kirk would be shocked if the flop McCoy had found for himself had hot water.

Having cleansed the upper part of McCoy's body, Kirk allowed his hands to wander beneath the water ghosting over McCoy's hips, caressing his thighs, and finally sliding well soaped hands back to McCoy's ass. McCoy enjoyed the gentle caresses, or at least gave a damn good impression of doing so. And he didn't balk when Kirk kneaded the cheeks of his ass, when he palmed and pressed against the firm orbs. However, when Kirk stroked McCoy's entrance, not only was there not the reticence that he'd expected, there was no reaction at all. Kirk tried again, another stroke at the tight pucker, but still no reaction from McCoy.

"You didn't feel that did you?" Kirk asked, carefully keeping his voice level. Another few light touches that McCoy didn't respond to, and his hypothesis was confirmed. "What did you use?" McCoy shifted under his gaze uncomfortably, and looked rather disconcerted about being found out. "McCoy, I'm not an idiot, I can tell you used some kind of numbing agent, now what was it?"

"Topical anesthetic." Kirk felt the bottom drop out of his stomach, this tendency towards self deprecation was beginning to border on self-harm and was starting to concern him. If someone else had picked McCoy up tonight, the damage done to the man in front of him could and most likely would have been considerable. This would never do.

"And how long approximately until it wears off?" This was said in a less even tone, because try as he might he couldn't maintain an unaffected demeanor when faced with this.

"A few hours, more or less." McCoy shrugged still not able to comprehend why Kirk was so concerned about this. After all it didn't affect his pleasure, and it wasn't like it rendered McCoy's ass unusable.

"Do you have any idea how dangerous that could have been? Don't get me wrong, I understand that you're new at this, and that you had good reason to be leery as chances of you getting picked up by someone who gave a damn if this was pleasant for you were pretty damn low. I understand that short term this would save you discomfort, but damn it McCoy that pain exists for a reason. You could have gotten yourself killed!"

McCoy froze under the angry tone of Kirk's voice, and considered that he might have a point. He'd panicked at the thought of what was to come, and theoretically the course of action he took shouldn't have put him a risk for more than some minor tearing and soreness the next day. But he'd forgotten to contemplate the more extreme ends of the spectrum before he'd applied the numbing agent.

"Ever had to treat someone for peritonitis, McCoy?" A slow nod as the danger that Kirk had mentioned crystallized in McCoy's mind. "Then you know it's a lousy, painful way to die. Never do something like that again." He met and held McCoy's eyes and when he didn't get a response he shook him roughly. "Never again, McCoy, promise me."

McCoy nodded, and swallowed thickly. Then moved away from Kirk, making his way from the tub. "Where do you think you're going?"

"I'm leaving. It's obvious that you've got qualms about fucking me while I'm in this condition. In case it escaped your notice, Jim, I'm a whore. Don't exactly have much reason to stick around if there's no business to be done, now do I? And heaven forbid you not get your money's worth."

Kirk growled in frustration and grabbed McCoy bringing him back into the water. "Did I ask you to leave?" McCoy shook his head. "Didn't think so. I'm sure we can figure out some way to keep ourselves entertained until the numbness wears off. In the meantime if I hear you refer to yourself as a whore again tonight so help me god I will gag you, are we clear?"

"Well if not that, what would you call it?" McCoy looked at him trying to process the enigma that was James T. Kirk. The man had flat out called him a whore on the street, but had taken offense when McCoy used the term. He'd agreed to pay for McCoy's services, yet so far he'd asked for nothing save that McCoy be receptive to receiving pleasure. This made no sense.

Kirk frowned and shook his head. "McCoy, what am I going to do with you? For once in your life just accept that something good has happened to you, and don't look a gift horse in the mouth." Kirk stood, and stepped from the tub, wrapping a towel around his waist before extending a hand to McCoy. "Well since sex is going to have to wait a few hours, let's see if this place has anything fit to eat. You could use some meat on those bones of yours." And as Kirk helped him out of the tub, and wrapped McCoy in a thick cushy robe, he couldn't help but wonder when the other shoe was going to drop.

Nothing in this world came for free, and not knowing the price for the small kindnesses he was receiving made him wary. But as Kirk shoved him into a plush chair, and pushed a glass of fine bourbon into his hands, he decided that as there was little he could do about the future, he might as well enjoy the moment. After all the price that would accompany this fine treatment would be exacted from him regardless, so might as well enjoy the reward if he was going to end up with the punishment in either case.

AN: So no sex in this chapter, but some seriously pissed off Jim. I assure you McCoy's in for quite a treat when Jim does take him in hand so to speak. As a side note, numbing agents prior to anal sex is a really, really bad idea. As Kirk notes, pain exists for a reason, circumvent it at your own peril. Thanks for reading, and as always I look forward to hearing from you!

Next up: Wining, dining, and an abundance of feeling.


	4. Chapter 4

Disclaimer: I do not own Star Trek. I own nothing interesting. All I've got is my bones, must be why I like McCoy so much.

AN: AU of Through A Mirror Darkly, where cruel circumstances bring McCoy into Kirk's care far sooner than in Through A Mirror Darkly.

Bought and Paid For

Teris Xenite

After a short absence Kirk returned carrying a snifter of brandy and took a seat across from McCoy. "Dinner's on the way, and will be here shortly. Now, why don't you fill me in on exactly how you ended up standing on a street corner in the worst part of town?" Kirk tried to keep the anger out of his voice, and maintain a loose posture, when really all he wanted to do was fling the brandy snifter across the room and ask McCoy what the hell he'd been thinking.

McCoy shrugged, trying his best not to appear as disturbed as he felt at the topic of conversation. "Not much to tell really. My bitch of an ex-wife managed to get my medical license revoked. Starfleet kicked me out, and without my license, it's not exactly like there are throngs of people looking to employ me for my brains."

Stormy blue eyes met his own, and he noted a tensing in Kirk's jaw that normally preceded McCoy needing his Med Kit for whatever poor bastard had pissed him off. "Did it ever occur to you that you have friends, McCoy?" Kirk doubted that McCoy would ever understand how frustrating the past few weeks had been for him. Waiting for McCoy to finally let go enough of that stubborn pride of his to ask for help, only to have to approach him unsolicited, because he wouldn't allow McCoy to get himself killed rather than ask for help.

"Did it ever occur to you that asking for help before it got to this point might have been a good idea? Not everyone is out to screw you over." McCoy would also never know that Kirk had eyes on him from the moment that he'd left Starfleet's gates, eyes that had reported to Kirk daily, and warned him when McCoy became desperate enough to take to the streets. No, it had been no coincidence that Kirk had been McCoy's first, and if Kirk had anything to say about it, only customer.

McCoy snorted at that statement, and his voice thickened. "You and I both know damn well that there are strings attached to any 'help' I would have gotten from anyone at Starfleet." McCoy shuddered, thinking of what his 'betters' would have asked him to do, the perversions of his medical knowledge that he'd have been asked to perform had he ended up in their debt. He'd decided that he'd sleep better at night after selling his body, rather than his soul.

Kirk shrugged and waved off McCoy's point as if it were completely superfluous. "Granted, but really McCoy, is a string here and there all that bad? I get that you don't do torture. I accept it, even though I don't understand what your big hang up over it is. But even barring that there are people who would have been willing to help you." He reached over and stilled McCoy's shaking hand, the only tangible evidence of his nerves not yet fully soothed by the bourbon.

With a frustrated sigh, Kirk slumped back into his chair. "You could have come to me you know. I would have helped you, and you'd have ended up somewhere like this straight off without the weeks of fear and cold and hunger in between." Noticing the rigidity of McCoy's frame, Kirk decided that a different less confrontational tact was needed for the moment. He smiled and shook his head. "Always so stubborn, alright be that way, just think on it, ok? You don't have to do this you know?"

"Believe me, I gave every other possible option ample thought before I landed on this one. It's not like I decided that for shits and giggles I'd lose my license, and consequently everything that made me in any way shape or form valuable for anything but this." McCoy's anger seemed to spike towards the end of this speech, and after it was done he seemed to deflate and shrink back into himself.

"Damn it, McCoy, they took your license, they didn't take what made you a doctor in the first place. You've still got that typically razor sharp mind, though it seems to be failing you a bit recently if your lifestyle choices lately are any indication. You've still got the knowledge and skills to be one of the best. A piece of paper can be worked around. I'm not saying that losing it doesn't suck, but seriously, this is fixable."

"Not all of us believe that there is no such thing as a no win scenario, kid."

Any reply that Kirk would have made was cut off by the sharp knock on the door. "That'd be dinner. We can talk about this later, for the moment let's just enjoy our meal and see if we can't get you in a less fatalistic mood."

Kirk rose to admit the waiter, and in short order the table was spread with what was to McCoy's eyes at least a veritable feast. There was a definite nod to McCoy's preferences, and he didn't know what exactly Kirk had done to convince a high end hotel in San Francisco that most likely specialized in sushi or 'fusion cuisine' or something else that came served in portions more like a sample than a meal to produce what he saw before him. At some point, he realized that he probably should have become used to the fact that the kid he'd shared a room with did things that were so over the top that no one else would ever even attempt them. Apparently it hadn't sunk in quite yet though.

He decided that he didn't want to know what Kirk had done to get the chef at this place to fry a chicken, make macaroni and cheese, or fix what looked to be squash and onions. And the cornbread in what looked to be a legitimate cast iron skillet, well that wasn't even worth questioning. Instead he was going to take the very pleasant diversion from the semi-nutritious gruel that served as the diet of the unskilled labor population, and be grateful for it. He'd already fallen farther than he'd ever though he would, so really being paid what now seemed a ridiculous sum of money to eat good food, in not altogether piss poor company, well in comparison to what he'd been expecting tonight, it wasn't exactly a great sacrifice.

Kirk took a sip of what McCoy would soon realize was sweet tea, made exactly the way that his momma had made it, thank you very much, and watched with satisfaction as McCoy took his first bite. Kirk had to admit McCoy's mother was a damn fine cook, and if the look on her sons face was any indication, the taste of home had been exactly what he'd needed.

"So what do you think McCoy, does it pass muster?"

"Are you kidding? It's perfect. Just like momma used to make."

"Good to hear, I get the impression that your momma might be very put out if the kitchen staff messed up her recipes."

"You got recipes from my mother?" McCoy looked at him flabbergasted. Momma McCoy hadn't shared recipes with anyone that wasn't direct blood kin in his lifetime to his knowledge. Hell, it took him two Christmases to manage to get the family ham recipe, and that was after years of begging.

"She was worried about you, apparently she hasn't heard from you, and Jocelyn stopped by to gloat." Seeing the tension returning to McCoy's face, as he'd never intended for his mother to know just how much trouble he was in, Kirk decided to nip the self-recrimination in the bud. "Don't worry, I had a very nice chat with her, in which I reassured her that you were going to be just fine. She's a very nice lady, and was delighted to send over the recipes for your favorites when I told her that I wanted to cheer you up."

"Have to admit, that one's a first. You do the impossible as a matter of course don't you?"

"Only when the impossible is daunting enough to interest me." Kirk enjoyed watching McCoy as he ate, and his good mood deepened as he tasted his own meal. He made mental notes to convey his appreciation to Momma McCoy, hopefully when he had a more long term arrangement with her son. As he watched, he did his best not to envision McCoy's mouth in other less wholesome occupations, as he reminded himself, tonight was mostly about getting McCoy in good enough shape to enjoy the rest of the weekend.

As they ate, Kirk took in the full picture of the man that had been absent his sight for little more than a month. There were dark circles under his eyes, which attested to many nights of poor sleep. His hair had gone shaggy, not horribly so, but far more disheveled than Kirk had ever seen it at Starfleet. There was the weight loss that Kirk had noticed earlier in the bath, though there was a slight increase in the musculature of his chest and shoulders due to the work he'd been performing. And there seemed a deep sadness, one that lingered in McCoy's eyes and made his tread heavier and his stance more tentative.

He wasn't, Kirk was proud and pleased to see, broken yet. But he was scarred. Losing that which had defined him, and given him worth and purpose when all else had failed him, that had nearly done what his divorce and the loss of his child had failed to do. It was evident to Kirk that McCoy was in emotional agony, from the dejected slump of his shoulders, to the bitterness when he mentioned the events which had led to his circumstances. Kirk reminded himself that this was only temporary, but it still galled him to see the proud man before him reduced to such dire straits.

Soon enough dinner was finished, and Kirk could see that McCoy's eyes were beginning to drift shut, though he was fighting it valiantly. Kirk supposed it was understandable, after all this was likely the first time that McCoy had been warm, full, and safe all at the same time since he'd left Starfleet. Top that off with the hefty dose of bourbon that he'd given McCoy on an empty stomach, when he'd likely not indulged in quite some time, and Kirk was half-way surprised that McCoy hadn't fallen down face first in his dinner plate by now.

"Come on McCoy, after that very fine meal, I think we could both stand to stretch out somewhere a little more comfortable, don't you?" A little of the tension that had ebbed from McCoy seeped back into his shoulders as Kirk indicated the bed behind them, but he followed Kirk easily enough. And soon the two had shed their robes and were tucked under the smooth sheets, and the softer than air duvet. McCoy was too weary to protest when Kirk pulled him into his arms, and after a moment which seemed to reassure him that all Kirk had in mind for the moment was holding him, exhaustion began to take over.

Kirk pressed a soft kiss to McCoy's forehead, and stroked a gentle finger over McCoy's cheekbone and to his ear to tuck back a wayward lock of hair. He enjoyed the warmth of the soft skin under his hands, and whispered in McCoy's ear as he slid into slumber. "Rest, I've got you now. You're safe." And as he felt McCoy's breathing deepen, he made the sleeping man a promise that likely would have terrified him had he been conscious. "I've got you now, McCoy, and no one is ever going to take you away from me again."

AN: See I promised you caretaker Jim. Next up the conclusion of the boys business arrangement, and a clue as to what McCoy's future might hold.

Characterization Note: To address the concern raised in an anonymous review, it's not my intention to portray McCoy as medically ignorant. It is, however, my belief, that despite being a brilliant man and a medical doctor that he is every bit as human as the rest of us. Due to that there will be times in which knowledge does not equal practice. There are cases in which people who would otherwise know better do stupid things, because they either are too preoccupied with situational aspects, or believe that the worst case scenarios will not apply to them.

There is a lot of psychological explanation that I can go into if anyone is interested, however the jist of it is that even smart people do stupid things without seeing the consequences until they look at things in hindsight. This is what leads you to doctors who tell their patients not to smoke while having a two pack a day habit themselves, or what leads me to stay up late studying for an exam, when I know darn well and would tell my students that sleep before an exam is better than last minute studying. This is in no way an indication that I think McCoy is too stupid to know better, and instead for me reflects the level of turmoil that he's experiencing that he didn't think things through.

Couple this with a long standing tendency towards self sacrificing behavior that borders on self harm, and we have his decision that being numb through what was practically guaranteed to be a painful process, both physically and emotionally, would be a good thing. He may have even thought about the risks, and dismissed them as trivial, because at the moment the likelihood of dying from the experience was much lower than the likelihood of crippling fear of something that he has to do, should he be faced with all the sensations that are inherent within the experience.

The place that McCoy is in is dark, desperate, and the situation he finds himself in is dire. The only way that he can survive and retain his freedom is to take a path that virtually guarantees his repeated brutalization. Those of you who have been reading Through A Mirror Darkly know that my version of Kirk might flirt with a light edge of pain for McCoy, but he won't intentionally hurt him. McCoy doesn't know that, in fact had no idea that the person who picked him up wasn't going to have their fun, slit his throat, and dump his carcass in the bay. Given the fact that he was desperate enough to do it anyway, I'm thinking his mental faculties might be a bit compromised at the moment. In a situation such as this, this reaction is not unusual, instead it is human.

So while I understand that it is frustrating bordering on maddening at times to watch people make mistakes that you know they are too smart to make if they were thinking, that's going to continue. It will continue, because that is what happens with people. Now all this aside, McCoy is still a brilliant doctor. So if anyone catches a lack of medical knowledge when he's treating someone else, let me know, that's due to a lack of medical knowledge on my part not his.

On the other hand if it's something glaringly obvious that he should have known in regards to himself, rest assured it's not because he doesn't know. If he were treating someone else, he'd catch it. But since he seldom views his own health and well being with the intense scrutiny he does his patients, you can assume that even though he does know better he's just not seeing the issues in his own life (i.e. not sleeping enough, not taking time off, the incident in this story). Frustrating yes, but not a sign of ignorance.


	5. Chapter 5

Disclaimer: I do not own Star Trek. I own nothing interesting. All I've got is my bones, must be why I like McCoy so much.

AN: AU of Through A Mirror Darkly, where cruel circumstances bring McCoy into Kirk's care far sooner than in Through A Mirror Darkly.

Bought and Paid For

Teris Xenite

McCoy woke slowly, swathed in comfortable warmth. He was certain that this was a dream, the place that he'd found was drafty, had iffy heat, and the bed was hardly better than a pallet. After a few moments, he realized that this felt too real to be a dream, and he felt a moment of panic. This wasn't his bed, not at Starfleet, and certainly not where he'd been staying lately. As his nose detected the heady scent of aftershave emanating from the pillow beside him, the previous night's events came flooding back to him.

He flushed as he realized that somewhere in this room, Kirk was likely waiting for him. A moment to assess his situation, and he realized that yes, indeed it was full light out. And yes, he was in fact, very much naked. He couldn't quite explain it, but that disturbed him. He'd been naked in front of Kirk before, yes. But that had been under the veil of night, or in a bathtub. Somehow walking bare assed past him in broad daylight wasn't the most comforting of thoughts.

A surreptitious glance to the side of the bed revealed the robe from the previous night still lay where it had fallen. He reached down, and took the plush fabric in his fingers. He sat slowly, and shrugged the robe on, all the while looking around to see if he could locate Kirk. He found him sipping a cup of coffee, and reading something on a pad. Upon hearing McCoy stir he looked up, and smiled. "Good morning, good to see you awake."

McCoy grumbled something approximating an appropriate greeting, and Kirk grinned as he trudged by on his way to attend to the pressing personal matters that had woken him. Kirk allowed his eyes to track his progress, and he ordered breakfast while he was waiting for McCoy to emerge. He sipped his coffee, and felt a growing sense of contentment. No matter what option McCoy chose from this moment on, he was going to be tied closely to Kirk, and Kirk found himself greatly anticipating the next steps of this attachment.

McCoy emerged from the bathroom looking much more pulled together. He'd brushed his teeth and tamed the wild bed head that he'd had when he'd risen. He'd adjusted his robe, and Kirk poured him a cup of coffee as he took a seat across from him. Kirk noted the wince as McCoy's eyes lit on the chronometer and realized that it was late afternoon. He looked sheepishly at Kirk. "I'm sorry, I don't know what's gotten into me, sleeping away most of the day."

Kirk resisted the urge to sigh in frustration, as he doubted he would ever understand what it was about McCoy that made him expect what was beyond human endurance from himself, all the while making excuses for others. "It looked like you could use the sleep." McCoy still looked chagrined, and Kirk knew he was kicking himself for 'sleeping on the job' so to speak. "Relax, if I'd minded I would have woken you." A knock on the door, and Kirk smiled in what he hoped was a reassuring manner. "That'd be breakfast."

Kirk rose and admitted the waiter, who was dismissed with a hefty tip and Kirk's signature on his padd. McCoy noted that Kirk scanned their food for contagions, presumably allergens given Kirk's temperamental immune system. When the scanner gave him an all clear, Kirk gave McCoy a thumbs up, and removing the temperature control dome revealed fluffy pancakes, crispy bacon, and fresh fruit. McCoy smiled as the scent of his mother's banana pancakes reached him, and looked at Kirk. "Another chat with my mother I take it?"

"Oh yeah, she was kind enough to send along feeding and care instructions. Which will come in handy I'm sure, as you're normally so fucking tight lipped about what you need."

McCoy shrugged. "Never saw the need in complaining about what can't be changed."

"I beg to differ, nothing has ever been changed by merely enduring misery. But we can argue over that later, right now the greater problem is letting your breakfast get cold. Eat, you'll need your strength to be at your cantankerous best."

McCoy looked at him bewildered. "I just can't understand you. You pick me up off the street and you bring me here to what? Eat and argue? I know there's something else coming, you want something else from me. So go ahead, enough with the kid gloves and the suspense. What do you want from me?"

Kirk growled in frustration, and slammed the lid on his breakfast. "What is it about you that always makes you so damned suspicious of the barest of comforts, McCoy? Anyone else in your position would be thanking their lucky stars that salvation had arrived, and you accuse me of trying to extort something from you when all I've done is seen you fed, warm, and safely sheltered."

"You and I both know damn well that the world doesn't work that way. What do you want from me?"

"Not to have you end up floating dead in the bay thanks to your own idiocy for starters. After that what I want you for is immaterial. After all, you said it yourself, it's not exactly like you've got a slew of people lining up to help you. So sit down, and eat your damn breakfast." He punctuated this conversation with a shove to McCoy shoulder that put the man firmly on his ass back in his chair.

McCoy glared at him, not knowing that his tantrum eased Kirk's nerves considerably. This was the fire that he'd longed for, not the mild and apologetic man that'd he'd feared McCoy's diminished social standing and the changes in their circumstances would bring. If he wanted a fucking sycophant, he could have his pick of any of the pretty boys and girls awed by his name and his money. Instead he was sitting across from the man who had never let him slide on his bullshit, and had never been impressed by any of the more conventional courting gestures that Kirk had initially made.

The heat in McCoy's eyes would have made a lesser man squirm, but did follow his instructions. Their meal was consumed in contemplative silence, and when it was finished, McCoy raised his eyebrow in question. "Well, now what?"

Kirk looked at him and considered him for a moment. "As tempting as my more base instincts are at the moment, I need that brilliant brain of yours." He handed McCoy a padd. "I need you to design a top of the line medical research lab for me. Make an equipment list too."

McCoy resisted the urge to break out into hysterical laughter. "That is what you needed me for? You realize you could have gotten any of the grunts on the medical track to do that for you, without driving into the seedy part of town and finding me."

"Well I'm not asking any of them, I'm asking you. So hop to it." McCoy hunched over the padd, and the stylus flew for an ungodly amount of time, but then Kirk reminded himself exacting attention to detail and perfectionist tendencies were what had made McCoy one of the best surgeons on the planet. Finally he looked over his work, and giving it one final review nodded, seemingly finding it acceptable. He straightened and handed the padd back to Kirk.

"There, I don't know why you want it, and I'm not sure I want to. But there you have the plans and equipment list for the finest medical research facility."

Kirk took the padd, and gave a cursory glance at the pages of notes that McCoy had made. "Excellent, now come with me." McCoy followed him, and Kirk waited until they were seated in the living room portion of the suite before speaking again. On the coffee table before him were two additional padds, and Kirk lay the one that housed McCoy's notations alongside them. The air was heavy with McCoy unasked questions, and Kirk took a moment to simply enjoy the delicious view that he was being presented with. There were he reminded himself, many, many good reasons that he was willing to go to the trouble of pursuing McCoy.

"It seems to me, McCoy, that you haven't had a whole lot of choices about the trajectory that your life has taken of the past few years. Given that your ex took the majority of the planet in the divorce, and has subsequently dated anything with a bankroll and a dick, I'm guessing that the divorce wasn't your idea. I also know that you only chose Starfleet because you had no other option, and it seemed like a good plan while drunk off your ass. As for the past few weeks, not a lot of choices involved there either."

Noting that McCoy jaw was beginning to set in anger, he stopped harping on what had to be a painful point. "Given that, I decided that it was only fair to give you some choice in what the next phase of your life looks like. Unless you can demonstrate some other viable option that doesn't leave you sleeping on the fucking streets, I'm going to bring you under the protection of my family."

McCoy's eyes widened almost comically at that statement. Whatever he had been expecting Kirk to say, that certainly hadn't been it. "Now, might I assume that if you had a better way to support yourself and discharge the outrageous legal debts that your ex-wife has foisted on you that I wouldn't have found you where I found you last night?"

McCoy nodded, grudgingly, feeling his cheeks heat at the reminder of how far he had fallen. "Alright then, I'll be taking you on as a cliens then." McCoy felt his heartbeat spike, he'd never thought of finding a patron, and certainly not one of Kirk's stature. But he had to admit that despite the deep and abiding hatred that he had for the particular system, if he absolutely had to have a patron, and at this point it looked like he just might have to, there were worse people that he could have fallen to. More than a year and a half's cohabitation hadn't revealed any truly deviant tendencies, except for the whole ease of killing the Klingon assassin thing.

"Alright, I'll become your patron. Any objections?" Kirk raised an eyebrow and took McCoy's rather stunned silence as a no comment. "Now to determine what your service will look like. I've got three possible options lined up, we'll go over them, and you can pick the one that you're comfortable with." Noting McCoy's wooden silence, Kirk feared that the man had gone into shock. It was after all quite the reverse in fortunes to go from penniless and pretty much homeless, to being under the protection of one of the most powerful families in the Empire in a matter of seconds.

He snapped his fingers in front of McCoy's eyes, pleased when he startled, and met his eyes again. "You with me now, McCoy? This is an important decision you're about to make."

"Yeah, I'm fine. Just a lot to take in at once."

"Believe me, I'm well aware of that. Need a minute to collect yourself?"

McCoy seemed more focused as he shook his head. "Well then, now we talk options. The first option would be to work in the lab that you just designed. You would technically still have to have a 'licensed doctor' to sign off on your work, but you could still practice in a sense." He noticed the face that McCoy made at that statement, he had expected that part of the situation would chafe McCoy's pride.

"And yes, I'm aware of the fact that getting some half assed quack who will never be as good as you are to sign off on your work would chafe. But still, if you want to go that route, I'll see to it that the facility gets built, and that you get installed as the brains behind the operation." And if he privately thought that would be a tragic waste of McCoy's talent, well he'd keep that to himself.

He continued, knowing that there was no point in dragging out the anticipation for this part of the afternoon's activities. If everything went according to his plans, then he'd enjoy keeping McCoy in a state of pleasant suspense for the rest of the weekend. "Your second option is more of a conventional one. I'm a man of substantial means, and therefore there is no hard and fast rule saying that you've any need to work at all. I'd be glad to keep you in and above the lifestyle that you've become accustomed to."

McCoy flinched at that option as well, as Kirk had been sure that he would. "Yeah, I didn't think that being a 'kept man' would appeal to you, mores the pity." Kirk had known that McCoy, ever self sufficient, would balk about being considered a plaything. No, the spark that made him so interesting to Kirk would fade if he couldn't feel useful, even if he was kept in comfort.

"That leaves us with option three. I can arrange for you to be readmitted to Starfleet, and Pike will help me get your medical license back. From what I can gather, he's expecting it to be a bitch to do, so he will only arrange that if you chose to come back to Starfleet."

McCoy felt his heart leap into his throat, and blinked back tears. Any of the options before him would involve owing fealty to Kirk, and he'd been given a good impression as to what form of service that Kirk would require of him. But to be able to practice medicine again, that was more than he'd ever dreamed possible. Seeing the smile on McCoy's face at the thought, Kirk nodded. "I take it that you prefer option three then?" McCoy nodded, too afraid of emotions overcoming him did he try to speak. "I thought you might feel that way." He reached over and ran his thumb along McCoy's jaw. "Come on let's go be hedonistic a while longer. We'll be back in the barracks and eating replicator swill before you know it."

"What would you have done if I'd said no?" McCoy asked.

Kirk smiled, and cupped McCoy's cheek. "I'd have given you the money I promised, and then waited a few weeks and tried again. I figured that you'd see sense eventually. Contrary to public opinion I can exercise patience, when what I'm waiting for is worth it." And if he'd planned on arranging McCoy's life without him to make the prospect of sanctuary more appealing, well that'd be his little secret. He was of course pleased that wasn't necessary. He could think of much better ways to spend an afternoon than scaring off McCoy's potential customers.

He reached up and tangled his fingers in McCoy's hair. "We're going to have to swing by the barber shop before we head back to campus, can't have my CMO getting written up for being out of uniform." He smiled, and let McCoy feel the weight of his appreciative stare. "Shame though, looks good on you." He took McCoy's chin between his fingers and tilted his face this way in that inspecting him. "Night's sleep did you some good. I think I might just be able to let you call your mother now without her skinning me alive."

McCoy looked at him skeptically. "Now I know that the fearless James T. Kirk isn't afraid of one tiny little church lady from Georgia."

"Afraid no, but I get the feeling that she doesn't take people hurting her 'baby' lightly. Family's important to you, so I'm doing my best to stay on her good side. Your sister on the other hand…"

McCoy sighed and reflexively pinched the bridge of his nose, as the topic of his sister typically gave him a headache. "It's complicated, she thought she was doing the right thing."

"How precisely could taking your child and your living away from you be doing the right thing?" Kirk had wondered about the enmity that was readily apparent between the two siblings.

"Because she knows I killed our father, but she doesn't know the reason why." McCoy's frame was tensed, and he avoided Kirk's gaze. This wasn't something that he'd wanted to discuss, with anyone, ever. He knew that repression was unhealthy, but dealing with the past would leave him vulnerable in ways that he didn't even want to contemplate.

"So that's why you didn't fight them when they tried to take your license. I'd wondered." He put a hand on McCoy's shoulder and gave it a reassuring squeeze. "Don't worry, McCoy. I'll take care of everything." He pulled McCoy in for a kiss, surprising him with the tenderness of his touch and the gentle but persistent exploration of his mouth. "You're mine now, and I take very, very good care of what's mine."

McCoy's pulse jumped beneath his fingers and Kirk smiled slightly. Eyes still too focused and clear for Kirk's liking studied him. "Aren't you going to ask why? You're taking me on baggage and all, you certainly have the right to pry."

Kirk shook his head. "I'm assumed that for you to kill him, he'd done something to deserve it. You don't have a malicious bone in your body. I have every confidence that if you killed him, he deserved what he got and worse. You don't have to give me details unless you want me to know. Family is complicated, and everyone has secrets." He brought his hand to rest at the base of McCoy's skull, allowing his fingers to play in his hair. "I want you to trust me, but that will take time. Unless it's something that endangers you, you're welcome to keep your secrets until you feel comfortable telling me."

Realizing that Kirk wasn't going to force him to face the misery of explaining exactly why he'd felt very justified in helping his father meet an untimely end, McCoy began to relax. Strong fingers attacked the knots he found and Kirk felt the muscles underneath his palm loosen and he smiled. "That's better. Now, let's see if we can't get you to relax now that we've taken care of business." The heat in the normally cold eyes would have given McCoy pause mere hours before, but how was he supposed to refuse the man who'd promised him everything?

AN: Hi everyone! I hope that everyone has a wonderful new year so far. This chapter goes out to Violet. Your review really helped me out when I was feeling pretty down, so thanks a lot. I hope ya'll enjoyed this chapter, and as always reviews are the most awesome thing ever. Thanks for reading!


	6. Chapter 6

Disclaimer: I do not own Star Trek. I own nothing interesting. All I've got is my bones, must be why I like McCoy so much.

AN: AU of Through A Mirror Darkly, where cruel circumstances bring McCoy into Kirk's care far sooner than in Through A Mirror Darkly.

Bought and Paid For

Teris Xenite

Kirk stood, and extended a hand to McCoy. "Let's see if we can enjoy that swimming pool this place calls a bathtub now that you're not drugged."

Kirk led McCoy into the bathroom and started water running into the tub. As the tub filled he pulled McCoy in for a kiss, allowing the sheer gentleness of it to surprise him. McCoy was shocked, that Kirk seemed to want to let him respond or pull away if he wanted. After a moment Kirk pulled away and unbelted McCoy's robe. He stroked his hands up McCoy's back and pushed the robe from his shoulders. McCoy's nipples peaked in the cool air, and Kirk pulled him close for another kiss allowing the plush terrycloth of his robe to brush against the hardened nubs drawing an involuntary shudder through McCoy.

Kirk smiled and pulled back a bit and gently rolled McCoy's nipples between his fingers. "I get the feeling that it's been awhile for you." McCoy bit his lip and nodded slightly color flooding his cheeks. Kirk smiled and traced a finger along his chin. "Well now, don't you worry. I'm going to take, very, very good care of you."

"Isn't that supposed to be my line?" McCoy asked quizzically, after all it was hardly standard for a man of Kirk's position and power to pay to pleasure a whore, which seemed to be what Kirk had in mind.

Kirk shrugged and shook his head. "Nah, your line is keeping me happy. Just so happens that making you come till you're spent makes me happy. Somehow I'm not thinking that you're going to be complaining about that."

"Never considered myself that much of a fool."

"Glad to hear it, I don't tend to suffer them well. Now, it looks like that tub is about ready, go ahead and hop in. I'll be with you in just a moment." McCoy climbed into the tub, enjoying the warmth that surrounded him. Kirk returned holding what looked to be a glass jar, which he sat within easy reach on the side of the tub, before joining McCoy.

Kirk sat next to McCoy, and reached over and stoked his shoulder, frowning as he felt tension there. "Still so very tense, McCoy, haven't I proved that I'm not going to hurt you?" Kirk maneuvered him so that he was sitting in front of him, and began massaging McCoy's shoulders with some kind of high end massage oil the hotel provided, which made the whole room smell like jasmine. Strong fingers kneaded away the tension and despite wanting to remain vigilant McCoy began to relax, leaning his head back onto Kirk's shoulder.

"There now, that's much better. There's no need for you to be so tense, McCoy, just lay back and let me make you feel good. That's not so hard is it?" Despite himself, McCoy arched into the touch that began worrying his nipples, and bit his lip trying not to cry out.

"Anything that you need to tell me about, McCoy, anything I need to avoid?" Kirk's fingers began ghosting over McCoy's rapidly responding cock.

McCoy moaned as Kirk continued manipulating his flesh, much to his distraction. "What do you mean?"

"Nothing ruins an evening faster than having your partner have a panic attack. Got any triggers I need to avoid?"

"None that I know of." Aside, McCoy mentally noted a probably wholly irrational fear of the whole thing due to his experiences with Ethan, but he could hardly say that sex in general was a trigger for him now could he?

"Alright, turn around and face me then." Kirk helped maneuver McCoy's legs into position so that McCoy was straddling his lap. McCoy's face flushed as Kirk's hard length pressed against him, and Kirk chuckled good naturedly as he tangled his fingers in McCoy's hair and pulled him in for a kiss. Kirk's other hand reached to the side, and came back coated in something from the glass jar. The substance was thick, and apparently waterproof, and McCoy felt it tingle as Kirk brushed his fingers over his hole.

He resisted the urge to shy away, and found that the cool tingling wasn't unpleasant. Kirk stroked one finger over the tight pucker a few times, before nipping McCoy on the jaw to distract him as he pushed his finger inside. McCoy froze and Kirk gave him a moment to acclimate himself, before carefully inserting the second finger. Once inside he aimed his fingers towards McCoy's prostate, causing him to jump when they pressed on the sensitive flesh. Kirk stroked the gland for a moment, noticing that McCoy was beginning to unconsciously rock his hips forward against Kirk's groin seeking some sort of friction.

"See that feels good, doesn't it?" McCoy nodded, shuddering at the intense sensations. "This doesn't have to hurt, McCoy, and when you're with me, it's not going to. That's not what this is about." Kirk reached down and wrapped his other hand around McCoy's cock, the slick tingling gel rapidly coating his cock as Kirk stroked up and down McCoy's length. "I'm going to make you feel good, I swear." Kirk pressed his lips to McCoy's jaw, as he continued stroking McCoy towards completion.

Within a few moments McCoy tensed, teetering right on the edge of orgasm. Kirk took in the sight, and almost lost his breath, McCoy's head was thrown back, his chest was heaving, and his teeth worried his lip while he trembled and panted. Kirk increased his speed, and began worrying the head of McCoy's cock with his thumb. "That's it. Come for me, McCoy. You know you want to. It'll feel so good, that's all you need to think about, how good this feels."

Another thrust and McCoy complied, shuddering and gasping as he climaxed. Kirk watched with a grin as McCoy fell apart in his hands, and shifted to relieve the throbbing that the show McCoy had just put on had started in his groin. Once McCoy's heart stopped racing and his breathing returned to normal he felt his cheeks burning. Kirk brought a finger up to stroke the rosy cheeks and smiled. "It's alright, you don't have anything to be ashamed of."

McCoy snorted. "I haven't come that fast since I was a teenager. Not exactly my proudest moment."

Kirk shook his head, and gave McCoy's shoulder a comforting squeeze. "We've also established that it's been a pretty good while since you've been with anyone. That tends to affect things. Once your body gets used to getting off on a regular basis again it'll let you prolong the moment." Kirk picked up the sponge, washed the two of them off, and then he pulled McCoy in for a kiss. "Don't worry, I plan on getting you very accustomed to being satisfied, and once I do your body will stop treating every opportunity to get off as if it's your last."

Kirk stroked the soapy sponge over himself and McCoy, and in short order both of them were clean. Kirk stepped out of the tub, and extended a hand to McCoy. Once he was standing in front of him Kirk toweled him dry, and wrapped the towel around his waist. He stroked along McCoy's jaw gently with his thumb. "I'll give you a few minutes alone to take care of whatever you might need to."

Once Kirk had walked away and the door had shut McCoy took a moment to wonder what the fuck he'd gotten himself mixed up in. He tried not to think of how easily Kirk had made him come, and how imposing his cock was. The two fingers he could deal with, but the whole package that he wasn't sure he could handle, despite Kirk's reassurances. As he looked in the mirror he reminded himself that this time last night he hadn't even been sure that his 'client' wasn't going to kill him, and now he had Kirk offering to take him into his family.

He took a moment to catch his breath, and stop his shaking hands and trembling knees. Kirk had promised him that he wasn't going to hurt him, and had done a pretty good job of doing just the opposite in the time he'd been here. And it had to be possible for the sex to be pleasurable, because after all there were plenty of people who did this without being bribed, forced into it, or paid. And above all else, he had to accept this, because really the only options he had other than take Kirk up on his offer were become a monster, or end up where he'd been last night. In which case he'd still be fucked, and most likely by someone a lot less concerned about his well being than Kirk seemed to be.

He took a deep breath, closed his eyes, and he thought of his little girl. He reminded himself that he could do what he needed to do to stay whole. That if he didn't he'll have no chance of ever seeing her again. And he reminded himself that Kirk had up unto this point been tender with him, he has no real reason to expect that to change. Kirk had never been circumspect about his liaisons, and he'd yet to hear a complaint from any of the cadets that had warmed his bed. These thoughts are cold comfort, and he has to fight to slow his pounding heart.

He swallows down his fear and turns towards the door. This is all that is left for him now, there are no other options. At least none that are worth taking anyway, so he might as well get on with the rest of his life. He ran his fingers through his hair, and forced himself to take a step towards the door. In the long run it would do him no good to stall. Kirk was above all things relentless. He stopped at nothing when he'd determined he wanted something, and for reasons that McCoy couldn't even begin to comprehend, he wanted him. Such was his future.

AN: Greetings everyone, I hope that you're having a wonderful week. I know everyone's busy with NaNoWriMo, but please do let me know if you enjoyed it. Kirk's ego requires rather constant stroking you know. Also FYI apparently there was a snag with new chapter notifications around the time that the last chapter of Through A Mirror Darkly came out, so if you haven't read it yet, go check it out. As always thanks for reading!


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